


What you pick up on the way

by Anima_Lira



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not-big-brother!Takasugi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, child!Kamui
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:14:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29133141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anima_Lira/pseuds/Anima_Lira
Summary: "There really isn't anything wrong with my head, but I want to keep it anyway, so stop that.""Stop treating this like a game!"
Relationships: Kamui & Takasugi Shinsuke, Katsura Kotarou & Takasugi Shinsuke
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	What you pick up on the way

Because of the war everywhere, times were dangerous, one could easily be killed or kidnapped and sold at any moment, one tiny span of short attention was enough - it wasn't like he didn't know that.

Maybe it was out of youthful spite - something like that would probably kill him somewhere in the future anyway - to pay back his father for treating him like something useless and disposable any time he saw his son. And due to the message of death, the reason he had been allowed to leave in the first place, now his _only_ son once again.

He was still nothing worth in the building he called home once, just a someone whom a lot of money had been spent on, making him a bit too valuable to be simply thrown away completely. Thus, they had searched to make use of him in any other way, first with making him go, now with making him come back, because they had found a better way.

He should be at home right now, bowing before his family like a respectful son in morning and awaiting his father's orders - but he had lost interest in behaving this time somewhere along the way, that was why he was walking here once again, just like back then as a child. The old temple was still the same, waiting for prayers from desperate souls like it had long since before his birth. He climbed up the stairs, a slight smile on his face. It had been here where he had his first real fight against his classmates from the doujo.

Because where was a better place to team up on a guy (well, it had been three in the end, but since they had been beaten anyway, it wasn't important), than underneath the watchful gaze of something so almighty? He suppressed a laughter, dutifully bowed his head and clapped his hands together.

He was about to speak a simple prayer just like he was taught to (after all, his time with the monks hadn't been for nothing. They had taught him a lot and he had listened to what he found useful - the rest just kind of got in somehow anyway), when he heard something, the loud crack of wood, near him and yet so far away.

He stilled, waited. A bandit? No one had followed him here, he had made sure of that. A wild animal then? The temple wasn't that far away from the village though, they hadn't any problems with bears so far. Whatever it was right now, was watching him out of its hideout, waiting to attack. He was used to not moving for a long time too though (because the monks were real sadist, there was no other way of putting it), could wait like that for hours without getting exhausted.

And so he waited, while time passed. Concentrated. Calm. It stroke once he took his 20th breath, came at him from above. He moved away before the other could behead him, grabbed his wand in order to defend himself against the attacker. It wasn't an animal, he could see as much. But it wasn't a human either, at least he couldn't believe that this was one. It was too fast, too strong for one. But he wasn't a nobody either, moved along with the other, used his wand in every way possible, went on. (And really, he knew by now how to do exactly that. He couldn't wait to get back to a sword, it was a real pain once the monks had found the one he had hidden underneath his mat.)

From defense to to offense, and again, and again, until his opponent got tired out, begun to make mistakes - which he used without blinking, shoving the masked attacker to the ground, keeping them there with his wand and his feet, ready to throw another punch. He stopped once he saw that the other didn't move anymore, had been out since their head met the floor. He didn't let go of his wand though, but couldn't help but notice the bandages around the other, wrapped around lazily and wrong, as if not actually meant to protect a wound.

He removed them carefully, had to laugh when he realized what had just attacked him. How ironic indeed.

~...~

It had already become night when the boy awoke again, jumped to his feet like a startled animal. Well, he kind of was, so it was fitting in a way, wasn't it?

"Are you awake now? You were out for quite some time."

By now his father's face would probably be red from anger. (Not from worry, of course not.) Alone the image improved his mood, made him smile despite the child glaring daggers at him from where he stood.

"Why did you attack me? Are you one of those monsters of the night that feed on the blood of others in order to stay alive?"

In that case he wouldn't really mind it, because he knew how it was to starve. (He hated the monks. They were terrible in every way.) Instead of answering, the other jumped at him again, only to be brought back to the hard ground of the temple.

"Stop that. Even if you are an amanto, fighting a child isn't something an adult should do. Why did you attack me?"

"Because I need to kill someone and bring them their head!"

The child immediately begun to fight against him once more, ignoring his words completely. He brought him back every single time, both amused and angry, because the other just wouldn't stop with his attacks, like some really persistent bug. It didn't help that the other wasn't weak at all, forced him to put real effort into holding the attacks back.

"There really isn't anything wrong with my head, but I want to keep it anyway, so stop that."

"Stop treating this like a game!"

Another punch, but it had lost the bite over the time, was nothing but the attack of a small child. The black-haired finished it with a last punch in his stomach, brought him down again. The child didn't stand up this time, so he lowered his wand at last, sighed. Beating a child up in the place where he had been beaten up once? Was that the kind of karma the old men had spoken about all the time? Maybe that was the punishment for not heading home immediately like he had been told to do in the letter. He couldn't bring himself to really care though.

"Go home boy. If you want to go for a head, go for one that you actually hate and not just for the first one you see-"

"Shut up! Shut up!"

The other wanted to jump back to his feet, but hadn't enough energy to do so. It was almost adorable to look at - that was, if someone actually was sick enough (he knew there were people who were sick enough), to enjoy the sight of a beaten up child who struggled to get to their feet. He watched, thought about how it would've been better to go to another place instead of this one. Now the temple was all ruffled up because of them, a total mess. Should he leave and go finally home now? Even if his father would be angry and disappointed in him like always, seeing the old man again wouldn't be so bad. If he had been a bit more polite, he would've even said that he was wanting to see him again. Especially because he still had to pay his respect to the one who actually passed away - even though he had never known that boy. He had let them wait for long enough already.

But just leaving the boy here didn't feel right, because on one hand, he was worried for the child and on the other he was worried for everyone who would meet the child.

"I will have to go home. You can tag along if you behave yourself."

He stood up, picked his wand and the other up. Pretty light to carry for something this strong. An animal amanto for sure. Or whatever, he had no idea.

"Try something and I will knock you out for real this time, understood?"

There came no answer, but the child didn't try to break his neck at once, so the message came through to some point. The black-haired begun to climb down the countless stairs once again, had to be even more careful with the darkness all around them and a child on his back. He nearly tripped once, but just once. Maybe it had to do with the spirits surrounding the temple being angry at him, maybe because of his tired eyes not caring enough to look out anymore. Who could tell.

~...~

While he was being shouted at loudly, the little boy ate about anything on the table that was there.

"How dare you come back this late, you good for nothing?! I thought the monks had finally taught you some manners, but just like always, you're a complete failure to this family!"

As the old, but still healthy man went on (and he would go on for a while, they hadn't seen each other since 3-4 years), the black-haired at once felt something very strange, couldn't believe it. But he was actually grateful to the monks in his pseudo-made home in the mountains, because in comparison to to their lessons, the words of this human in front of him with the same blood as him, were such a amount of emptiness, it was almost funny to listen to it, had he been anyone else.

He looked away from his father (who commented on that immediately, shouted even more), looked at the tiny weapon in human skin he had brought home with him and who was currently making sure everyone inside here would starve for the next day, as he ate away the feast made for the return of the first son, as if he was actually respected and cared for. He seemed to absolutely don't mind eating at the one's he had tried to kill before, proved that he really was just a child. Not that he had doubted that, it just surprised him greatly. And he was the one who had brought a child to a mourning family after all, this was on him. 

He forced his eyes to his father's again, noticing how the other had stopped shouting at now, was ready to talk about why he really had called him back again.

"Marriage?"

Of all the things he had thought about, this was literally the most absurd one. Not that he had devoted his life to the studies like the others, but at least in appearance he should've. Who would want to give their daughter away to a monk anyway?

"Are you joking?"

"Does it look like I am?"

"You look like a joke for sure!"

He clapped the boys mouth shut, before he could bring him to chuckle, forced a serious expression on his face.

"I apologize, father. Please continue."

He had learned some manners while he was away. He had also learned to speak as little as possible, because talking was nothing but a waste of time when surrounded by dreamers and idiots. 

"Just like I said, you are to marry the daughter of an acquaintance of mine, I made a very good fortune for your hand, so you shall immediately carry out the duty and travel to marry and life with her family."

He would have laughed about it, if he wasn't so startled.

"And me becoming a priest a few years ago?"

"Forget that fact, it doesn't matter in times like this anyway. The position the family holds within the city isn't a tiny one, so don't anger the family and make me lose face even more. Do you understand?"

He would've bowed like a good behaved son, who accepted the request of a mourning father, the one who had bothered to feed him all this time would do, but before he could even pretend to lower his head, the child sneaked away, threw a plate at him.

"No way! I still want your head, you won't marry anyone, human!"

Instead of catching the plate like he could and probably should've done, he moved out of the way, didn't bother to look when it hit the wall behind him.

"I will take my leave then, father. Until tomorrow."

He took the tiny killer with him, not at all relishing in the fact that his dear father's blood was boiling in anger over the realization that an amanto had been inside his house and ate up everything he had offered as a show. No, not at all. (Though in retrospect, it was strange that he had let the child in to begin with, hadn't it? Almost made him feel guilty.)

"Oi, don't ignore me! I told you that you can't marry, you hear me?!"

Maybe the red-haired was still beat up from before or full from the food; beating him off and carrying him on his shoulders like previsions - as if he had any - was rather easy accomplished. It was a long way to that city down there, he knew as much even if he had no idea where exactly he should head to, but that didn't matter right now. He would have to sleep before he could carry on with the journey. And he would also have to somehow present himself before the family he was to be matched with - the poor girl would faint if she was him after this, for sure.

Maybe it wasn't a girl anyway, the daughter might as well be a woman who was older than him, hadn't been bothered with to be married yet or had been widowed due to the war that was still going on more or less. Somehow, that thought made it easier for him to look forward to going there. Though an old woman would make more sense to him, because no family that wasn't absolutely desperate would marry off their daughter to a nobody like him.

_'An old woman, huh?'_

Maybe it had been just a fleeting connection, but now he remembered that he still wanted to see someone, before he would ~~(be brought back to his family in order to receive more shouting and a proper escort)~~ get on with this journey.

"Hey, are you awake again? Can you walk on your own?"

He received a punch aimed directly at his head as an answer, could move away at the last second, let go of the child. He landed on his feet like a cat might do, only to attack again immediately. So the other was awake, great. If he were a better monk he could fight with his wand alone. Ah, he had forgotten his sword back home, hadn't he? One reason more to get back once again at least, so he wouldn't need to force himself completely. Probably.

"Aren't you getting tired of fighting?"

Another punch, aimed at his head, again. No answer to his question. Only a grin far too wide to appear on a children's face, far too false. Not that he didn't like to fight - he had missed it more than he would ever admit, couldn't even fully embrace the once familiar rush through his blood - he had missed it far too much if he was being honest. The monks had forsaken fighting, which was probably a good way to approach life - but after spending half of it fighting, it was sheer impossible to lay down his sword, to not strike to improve himself anymore.

Still, fighting with a child, no matter how strong, didn't really bring any joy at all, only made it harder for him to actually go all out. The lights had died down completely at this point, made him have to trust in his instincts to help him out of it.

"Are you done now?"

No answer. But no more attacks, so he assumed that he had tired the other out. At last. He wanted to ask the child again why he was attacking him so eagerly - especially since they had nothing to do with each other at all - but he was interrupted by the light of a lantern, blinding his eyes for a moment.

"Shinsuke?"

The lantern belonged to the one he had actually wanted to meet today. Though he probably wouldn't have sought him out. No, no he wouldn't have.

"Zura."

"Shut up."

The other sounded happy, but annoyed all the same. It was different from the the one he had left behind, but then again, he wasn't the one to talk. The young man held his lantern away from him, closer to the boy next to them.

"Who is that child?"

"An amanto who wants to behead me."

"I see."

The other nodded, as if that was the most normal thing to happen now a days. It probably was.

"Where you thrown out by your father again?"

Why did the other assume that immediately? Did he look like a beaten dog?

"More or less."

"Come with me then. I made too much food anyway."

A moment of silence, he shrugged with his shoulders.

"Sure. Why not."

They made their way in silence, the boy tagged along, either having lost interest to fight for now or being bribed by the mention of food. Familiar streets, familiar surroundings, only slightly enlightened by the lantern in the other's hand. It had been some time, and he hadn't been here very often in the first place. A tiny house, with just one child - no, they were grown ups now, weren't they? - to live in, all by himself with the same blank and serious expression that would foul one into thinking he wasn't a total idiot.

"So you still haven't accepted the offer of being a adopted into one of the richer families?"

"I don't have a reason to be adopted anymore, and a true samurai does not need any power-" the other stopped in his speech, as if he himself had gotten tired of hearing those words, before he sighed.

"Though, I guess I've just become used to the silence around this little house. Who knows."

The young man snatched away some onigiri, before the red-haired could eat them, handled them to him.

"And you? What brings a monk out of his beloved temple and back to his humble home?"

He shook off the child before his food was snatched away (he hadn't eaten anything today yet, at all), tried to find words to describe his situation in a way that could be mistaken as funny. What a pain.

"Looks like I will leave the monk-being behind me and marry."

"I thought you swore off all desires of men once you-"

He didn't continue this sentence either, because there was no need to it. He understood just by looking at him. Understood that the choice wasn't his. Understood that the way of a monk wasn't his to begin with. Understood that he was in the point of life where it didn't really bother him that decisions were made above his head - he just couldn't care less. And if he would bother to look the other into the eyes as well - which he couldn't, because he still had to defend his food - he would see that the other felt just as well.

That he just lived around, without a goal in his life, that the sword on his hip wasn't more than a trinket from their past, only not thrown away because old habits die hard. Not that the choice would be theirs any longer anyway, with the way the protest had died down at last, swords would be forbidden from them soon enough.

"What is a vow if not to be broken if personal interests change? It wouldn't be the first time anyway."

It made the all so compelled Katsura, who knew exactly what was meant, laugh out.

"No, I guess reality just works like that. Have you made friends at the temple?"

"I've found two or three persons I wouldn't punch at the first opportunity. You would've liked it there. Discipline everywhere, no one would think of dancing out of the line and everything we are taught is for the grater good or something like that."

"Sounds like half-baked brain washing to me."

They turned to the boy who had gone rid of the last rice corns, was now looking around as if he was either searching for something more to eat or something to destroy in order to fall back into his self chosen role as a wild beast in a children's skin.

"It was." He doubted that Katsura would've liked it there. The training, maybe. But it was just another bunch of empty words chosen to be punched into one's mind - even if not with the fist.

"Who are you even? It's unusual for amanto to drop by as if the world already belongs to them. Don't you know that there was a war going on till now?"

Even if they officially had given up and opened the land by now, there still were more than one who wouldn't hesitate at all to kill a child that was alone. Though, somehow he doubted that the other worried about that at all. A grin found its way on the boy's face, as he sat up, faced them completely. 

"Of course I knew. I came here to get the heads of 7 strong warriors and bring them back to my mentor. He said he wouldn't train me if I couldn't even do this much, so I wanted to prove him wrong. Now, why won't you be so kind and kindly let me behead you? Fighting you was nice, but-"

"So where are you going to go from now on, Shinsuke? Are you going to marry the girl?"

"Oi-"

"Of course I'm going to." He would have taken any chance to get away from that place, really. His hair had grown again in the time he had needed to come back home and he wasn't keen on cutting it again. Ever. If not for the fact that he couldn't stand his father, he would've thanked him for the opportunity.

"Hey-"

"Why don't you you come with me, Kotaro?"

It had been so long since he had called the other by his actual name, hadn't it?

"It's not like you have anything better to do anyway, maybe you will find something worthwhile in the city down there."

The plate was thrown at him, followed by a direct punch and he had to roll away in order to not be hit. "Don't ignore-"

"Think about it, will you?" If he was to be escorted by his father's men anyway, he could ditch them at least, enjoy the last bit of free time he had. But screwing up the marriage would end in even more shouting, he could save that. The next punch nearly hit him, forced his attention back to the other. Might as well.

"Do you think Sensei would scold me for killing a child?"

He really wanted back his sword. His wand would break anyway soon, with how often and recklessly he had used it already. (Too many times. Way too many times.)

"You can try-"

"Yes, he would. Using your sword for something like that was never his goal when teaching us."

The black-haired took a sip from his cup, ignoring the fact that his table was smashed to the side and the light almost went out. His hair had really become long over the time. Had the other cut it at all while he was gone?

"Too bad then."

Indeed, his wand broke, couldn't withhold the pure force the other had put into his punch, knocked the other out at last, ignored the scolding look he other definitively gave him right now.

"What about monsters that pretend to be children?" He picked up the boy, turned him on his back, careful to not let go of the head until it lied safely on the floor again. If he had ever met him, the boy with his blood would have been around 4 by now. Much younger than this one, wouldn't he? "Demons who are just there to do evil. Shouldn't those demons be erased from the earth before they manage to destroy it just for fun?"

The futon were still where they had been the last times, years ago. The other really was simple in those things.

"Who knows", once he had lied out the futon, the other stood up to help him with the child like they were some parody of a married couple, "Every demon has a story after all. Listening to it is the least one can do. Who knows, the demon might turn back into a human."

"What a nice philosophy." He put the table back on its place, looked at the spilled cup on the floor. What a waste of warm water. He would have been scolded for that at the temple. He ignored it, pretended he didn't just thought about it, looked back at the other. "Though I don't know if it counts if a demon's pupil says it. What do you say, Zura? Gonna join me on that stupid quest?"

Silence. Then, a sigh, breaking down the last wall of the other's so called samurai-code. "Fine. And it's not Zura."

"I know. I just don't care."

"I know."

There were 4 futons in the house and the black-haired couldn't help but wonder why the ever so organized Katsura had bothered to keep them clean and new all these years. Then, exhaustion finally hit in.

And it hit in hard, knocking him out just like the child would have done, had he been awake.


End file.
